


The Devil Does Care!

by Tyranno



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: F/M, M/M, artistic license with ages, canon-typical childhood trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-28
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-08-09 01:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16440680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyranno/pseuds/Tyranno
Summary: In another life, Trevor Belmont, bloody and fearful and far too young to be alone, crossed the path of a generous, kind-hearted doctor who takes him to her home, despite her husband's objections.(AU where Trevor is adopted by lisa :,) )





	1. Chapter 1

Lisa Dracula-Tepes was so consumed with reading her map, she didn’t realise she was being accosted until she heard the squeaky shout of “Don’t move!”

A sword-tip quivered inches from her throat. She paused and her pack horse took a few more steps to realise they had stopped moving.

Lisa’s eyes travelled down the length of the sharp, handsome blade. The pummel of the sword was held by a determined-looking child, with a matt of black hair that hung in clumps and raw, scabbed red hands. A slicing scar cut through one eyebrow and continued over his cheek. As she took him all in, her mind switched into a doctor’s assessment—the child was far too thin, and the way he shifted uncomfortable suggested there might be other injuries.

“May I help you?” Lisa asked.

“Give me your money—and stuff!” The boy yelped, keeping the sword level.

Lisa peered down at him, “What sort of stuff?”

“What?”

“Money—and stuff,” Lisa repeated, “What sort of stuff?”

“Valuables,” The boy said, hotly, “Maybe… food.”

“Hmm,” Lisa said. She gave the sword tip a wide berth and continued walking, pulling her horse on with her.

“Wait!” The boy darted ahead, limping—and Lisa caught a repressed wince as he tripped on a hard root—a waved the sword at her again.

“Put that thing away,” Lisa said, sharply.

The boy went half-way through the motions of sheathing his sword before he realised what he was doing and stopped, swinging his sword up again.

“Put your weapon away,” Lisa said, adopting the same disapproving tone she used with her own son, “It’s rude to wave that around. Do you have no manners, accosting a woman in the woods like this?”

“It doesn’t matter you’re a woman,” The child said, eyes fixed on the earth.

Lisa raised an eyebrow, “Well, put that thing away and I will share my food with you.”

The boy’s eyes brightened and then he fell into a tangle of indecision. Eventually, he seemed to trust her, sheathing the weapon.

“There we go,” Lisa said, “There’s a clearing just through these trees, we can eat there.”

The boy nodded, hobbling after her. When they had settled in the clearing, she pulled out a thick sheet and set it down on the grass, bringing the remainder of her rations and setting them down on the fabric.

“Sit,” Lisa instructed, sitting down on one side of the fabric.

The boy sat opposite her, feet sticking out. His feet were bare and the skin was black with mud, and slightly lumpy. He waited impatiently to be allowed to eat.

Lisa passed him a chunk of bread, “Are you alone out here?”

The boy took a bit of bread and froze. His face scrunched up, as if he was smelling something unpleasant, and swallowed his bread. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on the earth. He was, then.

“Do you have a home?” Lisa asked, “Wherever it is, I can bring you back.”

The boy shook his head sharply, “I can’t…” He seemed to run out of words, his eyebrows furrowing together.

“You can help yourself to whatever food you want,” Lisa prompted, gently.

The child nodded, and let the bag he had been carrying slip from his shoulders. He looked around inside it, pulling out a whip, three long daggers, a set of smart silk clothing and finally retrieved a wrapped chunk of dried meat. He set it down on the fabric, pushing it towards her.

Lisa accepted it graciously, putting off a small piece and chewing it. It tasted like leather.

It was very strange that he would have such beautiful, high quality weaponry but no food and no shoes. His dirty clothing, too, had once been fine silk. The cuffs were charred.

“Do you have any water, please?” the boy asked, breaking Lisa from her thoughts.

Lisa pulled her water skin from her satchel and passed it to him.

The boy pulled out the stopper and took a long drink. He stared down at the remaining food wistfully. From the sharply visible bones in his arms, Lisa guessed it had been a long time since he had eaten and his stomach was tight.

“Let me see your hands,” Lisa said, packing the food away before he could force himself to eat and make himself sick.

The boy hesitated and came closer, unfolding his hands to show her raw, red palms. Old blisters covered most of the pads of his fingers and the tops of his palms. Scabs were rough over his fingers.

“You’re burnt?” Lisa asked, looking over his hands delicately.

The boy nodded.

“Luckily I still have some burn salve on me,” Lisa said, reaching into her pack to retrieve the salve and bandages. She dabbed some on his palms and rubbed them in as gently as she could. To his credit, the boy did not cry out or jerk away, simply screwing up his face as she rubbed in the stinging salve. She bandaged his hands next, up to a little over the wrist. He held his hands up protectively, reluctant to touch anything.

“Your feet next,” Lisa said, beckoning.

The boy shifted his position, presenting his feet to her. The skin was black with mud, and broken in places. She ran a finger along the sole of a foot—and felt something hard.

“Ow!” The boy jerked in her grip.

Lisa lifted the foot into the air, peering down at it, “There’s— _glass_ in here!”

The child said nothing.

“How did…?” Lisa turned the foot slightly, watching light gleam over the bloody broken glass.

“I… walked on some,” The boy said quietly, as if he was confessing to something.

Lisa stood up, and began packing the rest of her belongings onto her horse. She wrapped the dried meat the boy had brought and tucked it into her pack of food.

“Can you help me?” The boy asked, drawing up his knees to his chest.

“I can,” Lisa said, “But I need to take you to my home. I need my microscopes, my needles, my antibiotics… You need to come with me.”

The boy stood up, backing away, “I… how do I know I can trust you? What if you hand me in to the church?”

Lisa stilled. She faced him properly, putting a warm hand on his shoulder. With as much feeling and conviction as she could, she said, “I promise I won’t. I promise you won’t come to harm with me.”

The boy faltered.

He nodded.

Lisa smiled down at him, “There isn’t any room on my horse and I can’t have you walking on that foot.”

“So how am I going to…?” The boy asked.

Lisa picked him up.

The boy went tense with surprise, “What are you—?”

“Climb on my back,” Lisa prompted, “Come on now—I can’t hold you like this forever, even though you are pretty light.”

The boy climbed onto her back. He managed to get his short legs around her torso, like a monkey. He smelled of earth and the slightly sour scent of old, untreated injury. He was strong, despite his injuries, which was a good sign.

“Are you alright, up there?” Lisa asked, stretching out. The boy’s pack was tied to the horse’s side all the weaponry and spare clothing replaced. She took her horse’s reigns again and started to lead them in the direction she had been going originally.

“Yes,” The boy said, and paused, “Can I ask what your name is?”

“Oh!” Lisa shook her head, “I have been so rude. Imagine, me talking about manners yet failing to introduce myself! My name is Lisa Dracula-Tepes, of Lupu village.”

“Lupu,” The boy repeated, “I’ve been there. It smells bad.”

Lisa laughed, “It’s a farming town. You’re smelling the manure.”

The boy shifted his grip, bandaged hands brushing Lisa’s chin.

“May I ask your name?” Lisa asked.

“I’m Trevor,” The boy said.

“Do you have a surname?”

“Belmont,” Trevor said, quietly.

“Belmont?” Lisa asked, “Of the Belmont family?”

“Y-yes,” Trevor said.

“Oh, impressive,” Lisa said, sensing he needed reassurance, “That is a Great Family, isn’t it? It means you have strong blood in you.”

“Thank you,” Trevor said, and she felt him relax.

They walked for a long while. The landscape was sharp, with dramatic rises and falls of a deep green. The crested a rise and the castle came into view. Its dark towers twisted into the air, like a tree that had been struck by lightning. Fog and low clouds obscured the highest peaks.

Trevor leaned forward to get a closer look, nearly toppling Lisa over in the process. He gripped her shoulders tightly.

“What’s wrong?” Lisa asked.

Trevor settled back down, “Is that where we’re going?”

“Yes,” Lisa said, “Is there something wrong?”

Trevor made a noise like he wanted to say something—but he didn’t. Instead, he rested his head on his shoulder, a kind of forlorn air coming over him.

As they walked down the steep hill, the pack horse’s side butting into them, the ground underneath them changed from the hard, beaten earth of the forest path to the soft, almost marshy grassland. The grass seemed moss-like, mounds and mounds stretching out into the distance.

The castle’s heavy door came into view as they approached. It was a strange structure, with a very long, tall set of stairs and a humongous door that could have let a giant through without so much as stooping. The stone was very, very dark.

The earth was soft under her feet, and she made almost no sound. She left her horse to wander around the foot of the stairs and approached.

As she began to climb the long stone stairs, she felt Trevor slump a little bit. After a brief moment of worry, it turned out he had only fallen asleep. The stairs were steep, and despite her relative good health, Lisa still had to pause at the top to get her breath back. After a moment, she pushed the large door open.

The sight of the dark, cavernous entrance room. There was a flourish of black and red, and her husband materialised at the top of the stairs.

“Lisa,” Vlad Dracula-Tepes called, “You’re a little late. I was—”

“Hush!” Lisa whispered.

Vlad paused, and noticed the still form of the boy slung on his wife’s back. With another flourish, the vampire appeared at her side. He tilted his head, “Is he…?”

“Alive,” Lisa said, padding towards her office under the stairs, “But tired... and injured, too.”

Vlad followed her into her office, but hung at the doorway. Lisa eased the child from her shoulders and set him down on the patient’s bed. She had brought patients into the castle before, but never one so young, and never with such a grim expression. The worry that pinched her expression didn’t suit her, Vlad thought.

“What happened?” Vlad asked, voice low.

“The church,” Lisa said, fetching her surgeon’s kick, “Will you turn the lights on? I’d like to let him rest but we mustn’t leave the wounds to fester much longer.”

Vlad reached across and flipped the light switch. Light bloomed across the room. The boy’s eyes flickered open, dull until they caught sight of the vampire. He sat up, rolling hurriedly from the bed.

“Don’t stand,” Lisa ordered, but the boy ignored her, jumping to his feet and drawing a knife that had been hidden in his long pockets. The blade was wickedly sharp.

The boy pointed the knife at Vlad, eyes sharp and dark.

“It’s alright,” Lisa said, soothingly, while her husband just stood, watching the scene with mild interest. She made her way towards the child, hands raised in a placating gesture, “Everything is fine.”

“He’s a vampire,” The boy hissed. Vlad’s eyebrow raised.

“Well… yes,” Lisa said, “But—”

Quick as a viper-striking, the boy darted around her and launched himself at Dracula. Just as quickly, the vampire caught him by the scruff of his neck and swung him into the air, held like a disobedient puppy. The boy snarled, trying to slash at Vlad with his knife, but the vampire caught his wrist and held it firmly out of range.

Out of options, the boy sunk his small, blunt teeth into Vlad’s arm where he could reach it. Vlad let him gnaw at porcelain white skin, and cast a glance over to his wife, who was looking a little startled.

“It’s alright, Trevor,” Lisa said, “He wouldn’t hurt you.”

Trevor continued to bite at Vlad’s arm. He left no mark at all, teeth sliding over flesh which was as hard and cold as stone.

“Isn’t that right, Vlad?” Lisa prompted, meaningfully.

“Of course, dear,” Vlad said, holding Trevor like one might hold a rat by it’s tail—out of clawing range, “I won’t hurt Trevor.”

“Right,” Lisa said, “So you can stop trying to bite him now.”

Trevor finally let go of Vlad’s arm, with reluctance. He hung uncomfortably, his skin drained of colour as the exertion took over. Vlad lowered him onto the ground delicately, and, half a second later, released his knife hand too.

Trevor seemed to have decided to trust him as he sheathed his knife, padding back to the bed. He didn’t take his eyes off the vampire, regarding him with a cold kind of suspicion which might have been intimidating if it wasn’t coming out of the face of a battered twelve-year-old.

“Now, let’s have another look at that foot,” Lisa said, pulling up a stool to the foot of the bed. Trevor managed to draw his eyes away from Vlad for long enough to show her his wounded feet, and, while eyes were off him, Vlad disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2

About an hour later, Lisa emerged from her office, switching off the light and closing the door behind her. A pile of washing was in a basket which she rested on her hip. Vlad was waiting for her in the hall, as she has expected.

“Did it go well?” Vlad asked.

“Yes,” Lisa said, “I’ve cleaned and treated his feet, along with his eye. Did you move the castle?”

“I did,” Vlad said, “We can move it back when it is time for him to leave.”

“I don’t think he can be returned to his family,” Lisa said, eyebrows furrowing.

“Why not?” Vlad asked, “It would be the easiest option.”

“I know but… he said he can’t return,” Lisa said, “His wounds—he has old ones too. Knife scars on his chest—it even looks like a whip caught him once. I… don’t think he’d be safe with his family.”

“An orphanage then,” Vlad suggested.

“The church is another hurdle,” Lisa said, “They’re going to hunt him down.”

“The church is not omnipotent,” Vlad said, “I’m sure we can redress him, cut his hair, and give him a new name. They won’t spent forever looking for him.”

“Perhaps,” Lisa said, “We might have to place him somewhere else, however. I don’t think… is something wrong?”

Vlad’s attention had been drawn to the clothes in the hamper. He pulled out a large, fine silk shirt, spreading out the back in his hands. Light shimmered over the gold thread. He ran a clawed thumb over the crest stitched into the back.

“This is a Belmont crest,” Vlad said.

“Yes,” Lisa said, “He mentioned being a Belmont. I suspect that’s why the Church was after him, they—”

“You… _knew_? You brought a Belmont into our home...” Vlad said, voice threaded with dark notes. Lisa recognised the tone. In the first few years she’d known him, his court-ingrained suspicion of everything and everyone flared up a few times a week. Lisa had never feared her husband, but those episodes were the closest she came to it. She recognised the same accusation in his tone now, although he tempered it as best he could.

“I should have told you,” Lisa said, “But I don’t think—”

“Belmonts _hunt_ vampires,” Vlad insisted, “They’re dangerous. We can’t have him in the castle.”

“He’s a child,” Lisa said, sharply, “Aren’t you supposed to be so powerful? What do you fear him for?”

“And what happens when the rest of the Belmont clan come back for him?!” Vlad said, fangs flashing as he shouted, “The Belmonts are the only things on this earth that have come close to wiping vampires out!”

Lisa took a step back, eyes narrowing. After a moment of silence, Vlad receded a little, regaining his composure, a little shame-faced.

There was a soft noise, inside the office. Lisa paused and turned around, opening the door and peering inside. A pillow had fallen from the bed. She found the light-switch and flipped it on. A bed, the sheets scattered. Empty.

“He’s gone,” Vlad said, voice rough.

“Wait,” Lisa said, “Don’t hurt—” She stopped suddenly, colour draining from her face.

“What is it?” Vlad asked.

“Adrian,” Lisa said, “Check Adrian’s room first.”

Vlad nodded and shot off like a loosed arrow.

He crashed through the corridors and flew up the stairs. He came to his son’s room in barely an instant, cloak unfurling into the room. He took in the scene immediately, long fangs glinting dangerously as they extended.

“ _Put him down!_ ” Vlad demanded taking a step closer. His claws extended, needle sharp.

Trevor backed away until his side hit the room’s wall, knocking over a soft toy which fell soundlessly to the floor. Adrian was bundled up against his chest, still in his sheets with bare feet against the floor, watery blue eyes blinking up at the boy. A knife was drawn, pointed at Vlad.

“Let him go!” Vlad demanded, “Put him down!”

“Stop!” Trevor yelped, pressing himself harder into the wall. The knife shook in his hands, “Don’t come any closer.”

Vlad stopped, rising to his full height. His cloak whipped around him, as if in a storm. “Is this how the Belmonts act now?” Vlad boomed, “Done with honour, are you? Reduced to using children to kidnap children?”

Trevor held Adrian tighter, pointing the knife at Vlad, “I won’t—I won’t let you _hurt_ him!”

“Won’t—...” Vlad snapped, but stopped suddenly, realizing what that implied. His cloak settled down a little and he drew up, peering down at the boy, “I won’t hurt him!”

“I don’t believe you,” Trevor said, voice weak, “V-Vampires kidnap babies! They steal children!”

“That _is_ my child!” Vlad hissed.

Trevor was starting to shake, cracking under the weight of Vlad’s near-palpable anger, “I-I don’t believe you!”

Vlad’s cloak drew closer around him and he tried to temper his anger. Lisa had a way of getting people to cooperate without any sort of threat or even raising her voice, and he tried to invoke that now. He bent his spine so the reduce his towering height.

“Put Adrian back in his bed,” Vlad said, in what he hoped was a comforting tone, “And I won’t rip your throat out.”

Trevor stared up at him, bewildered, and for a moment it looked like he wasn’t going to move. His expression was totally blank. But then, slowly, he pushed off from the wall and staggered towards the bed, keeping as close to the wall and as far away from Vlad as he could. He reached the bed and paused.

“Put him down,” Vlad ordered, voice hard.

Reluctantly, Trevor let Arian down on the bed. The dhampir child looked totally unfazed, blue eyes flicking between his father and the Belmont boy. Just then, Lisa appeared behind him, panting heavily. She managed to catch her breath and came to stand next to her husband.

“Now,” Vlad said, managing something like relief, “How about we talk… Did your parents send you here? How did they locate the castle?”

But Trevor didn’t seem to be listening. His skin was suddenly very pale, and his hands were shaking. He seemed to sag onto himself, clutching at the bed posts.

“Your parents don’t know you’re here, right?” Lisa prompted, gently, “When was the last time you saw them?”

Trevor’s knees gave out, slowly, like a log collapsing on itself. He sat down on the floor, hand still clutching at the bed post. He stared down at the floor, eyes glassy.

“Trevor?” Lisa asked, peering down at him, “Trevor, what’s wrong?”

The dam broke. Trevor began to sob.

This attracted Adrian’s attention, who up until this point had been silently allowing himself to be manhandled. The dhampir wriggled forwards on his belly, poking his head over the end of the bed to peer at Trevor. His golden hair hung over the end of the bed in tight curls.

“What’s wrong?” Lisa asked, kneeling next to the Belmont child. Despite Vlad’s protests, Lisa drew the child into her lap, allowing him to cry on her shoulder. “Hush now. You’re safe.”

Trevor turned and wrapped his arms around Lisa’s shoulders, burying his face in her crook of her neck. Lisa ran a hand down his back soothingly. Trevor seemed to recover, only to begin crying again.

Adrian peered at him, “What’re you crying for?”

Lisa waved her son away, “Go back to sleep, Adrian.”

Adrian wrinkled his nose but obeyed, rolling back into bed.

She lifted Trevor into her arms, until he was half over one of her shoulders and stood up. All the while she cooed at him, trying to comfort him. She padded out of the Adrian’s room, rocking Trevor in her arms like he was a small child.

Vlad followed her out of the room, keeping a distance, as if emotions were contagious. The three of them walked down the long winding stairs, but this time, Lisa led them to the kitchens. It had only been installed when she had moved in, and thus it was small but very clean and new.

Lisa stooped, allowing a sniffling Trevor to slip from her shoulders. He padded to the kitchen table, casting wary glances at Vlad.

“Do you like tea?” Lisa asked.

Trevor glanced at her. He worked his mouth a little, and finally croaked, “Uh… a little.”

“I have black tea, white or green. Which would you prefer?” Lisa asked, pulling ornate boxes from a finely crafted cabinet.

Trevor stared at her blankly.

“I’ll just make you what I’m having,” Lisa said, preoccupying herself with pouring a few careful teaspoons of dried leaves into a pot. She water on to boil.

The kettle whistled. Lisa poured the hot water into the teapot and stirred it. Trevor crossed his ankles under the table, wrapping his arms around himself. It seemed as if every other inch of him was covered in bandages.

Lisa set down the teapot, along with two mugs. She poured them both a cup and set one in front of Trevor.

Trevor pulled it closer, until it rested at the edge of the table, steam curling up to brush his chin.

“Trevor,” Lisa said, leaning over the table to touch the boy’s hand, “I wasn’t joking when I said no harm would come to you. Vlad has already promised not to harm you. He was just scared, that was all.”

Trevor nodded.

Vlad had the unusual, uncomfortable feeling that he had made a mistake. Trevor continued to cast fearful glances at the vampire. Vlad drew back a little. For millennia, he had revelled in having a presence which could strike fear into the heart of any mortal, but now he simply felt a little awkward.

“Now,” Lisa said, after taking a sip of her tea, “I hope we didn’t have to ask, but… we need to know what happened to you.”

Trevor nodded, biting his lip, “I… My family is… gone.”

Vlad blinked, surprised, “All of them? It can’t be. The Belmonts are a Great family.”

Trevor flinched back, a wave of feeling taking him over that threatened tears. Lisa glanced back at her husband with a flat look before turning back to the boy.

“I’m sorry, Trevor,” Lisa said.

“It was the church,” Trevor said, voice surprisingly strong given the tears in his eyes, “We… we were excommunicated, a few months ago. But we couldn’t leave—all our knowledge was stored in the house. We though the church might… reconsider, or something.”

A lump had formed in the boy’s throat and he couldn’t seem to speak any more. He sat in silence for a moment, and took a sip of his tea.

Lisa breathed deeply, massaging her eyes. It looked as if a great weight had settled on her shoulders. “Trevor… I’m so sorry.”

Trevor nodded, minutely.

“You are welcome to stay with us, as long as you need,” Lisa said, “I know you probably can’t think about it now, but we will sort something out.”

Trevor nodded.

“I think we need to go to bed,” Lisa said, standing, “We can talk more in the morning.”

“I want to walk,” Trevor said, standing up. He winced a little as his weight moved onto his stitches, but he managed to stay upright.

“Of course,” Lisa said, biting back complaints about reopening wounds and pulling stitches. She wasn’t surprised when Trevor’s small, bandaged hand found hers. She curled her fingers around his, trying to will some warmth into them.

The pair of them padded to her office, shadowed by the ominous figure of Dracula. Lisa opened the door, flipping on the lights.

“The bathroom is through there,” Lisa pointed to a thin white door beside the cabinet, “And if you need anything there’s a bell beside the bed which will ring for me, okay?”

“Okay,” Trevor croaked. Somewhat reluctantly, he let go of her hand and padded over to the bed.

“Goodnight, Trevor,” Lisa said, as warmly as she could.

Trevor did not respond.

Lisa closed the door quietly. She lingered by the closed door, heart heavy. She rubbed her face, groaning gently.

“Are you alright?” Vlad asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Lisa said, catching her husband’s clawed hand and squeezing, “I really am sorry for not telling you about him being a Belmont.”

“It’s fine,” Vlad said, leading her back up the stairs, “I will admit my own reaction was… immoderate. But you know you could tell me anything, I wouldn’t have gotten angry at you.”

“It’s not that,” Lisa said, “It’s more like… I forget you are a vampire sometimes.”

“Really?” Vlad asked, raising his eyebrows. It sounded a little ludicrous—everything about him screamed vampire, his long fangs, his claws, his cloak. He was _Dracula_.

They reached the landing and Lisa pulled him onwards, towards their chambers. Her shoes clicked along the stone.

“Not like that. If anyone asked, I would tell then you were a vampire. Intellectually, I always know,” Lisa said, “But in my heart… sometimes, you seem very human to me.”

“I’m not sure if I should take that a compliment or an insult.”

Lisa laughed, “It’s a compliment. Besides, don’t you ever forget I’m human?”

“No,” Dracula said, drawing her a little closer, “Not ever.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new year!

When Trevor emerged the next morning, Lisa was already dressed and well-rested. Bacon spat and hissed from the frying pan. He could smell toast.

The blonde kid from yesterday, Adrian, was sat at the kitchen table, sipping from a beaten bronze goblet. Dracula had said he was his son, despite the fact they looked almost nothing like each other. But Trevor now saw the refined manner he drank, and the regal way he stuck up his nose at the Belmont, and was sure the vampire had been telling the truth.

“Good morning,” Lisa said.

“Um, Good morning,” Trevor said, startled out of his thoughts.

“Would you like some bacon and toast?” Lisa asked.

“Y-yes please,” Trevor said.

“Oh and Trevor,” Lisa said, setting down her spatula to retrieve a short, knobble walking stick from where it rested against the cabinet, “I think it would be best if you used this to take the weight from your bad foot.”

“Thank you,” Trevor said, using it to hobble to the kitchen table and sat down opposite Adrian.

Adrian regarded him sourly from under long, pale lashes. He was almost half Trevor’s height and had chubby, round cheeks which did not match his gaze.

“How old are you, anyway?” Trevor asked, narrowing his eyes.

Adrian took a long draught from his goblet, “One hundred and five.”

Trevor’s eyes widened.

“He’s eight,” Lisa said, setting down a plate of bacon in front of Trevor, followed by a plate of buttered toast. She turned back to the stove.

“But I age fast,” Adrian insisted, “I could read by four.”

“That’s only a year before normal,” Trevor said, taking a bite of his toast, “That’s not that unusual.”

“I was reading ancient texts and studying mathematics,” Adrian said, “I had already started designing—”

“That just means by eighteen you’ll be a doddery old man,” Trevor said, waving a hand.

Adrian narrowed his eyes. With his curly golden hair and bright, cold blue eyes, he looked like a cruel cherub. “At least I’m not a crybaby,” He hissed.

There was a crack of wood connecting with bone and Lisa spun around to see Trevor, with his walking stick still raised and Adrian, who was clutching his head.

“Enough!” Lisa snapped.

Both boys shrunk back from each other, Trevor setting his walking stick back on the ground sheepishly.

“You should be ashamed of yourselves,” Lisa snapped, “There’s no need to be so violent! Both of you, go to your rooms right now!”

Adrian rubbed his head hotly, “But I didn’t—”

“You provoked him,” Lisa snapped, “Now go! I don’t want to see either of you until you’ve thought about what you’ve done.”

Both boys slunk off, embarrassed and slightly put out.

 

*

 

It had been wishful thinking, to believe that might be the last of it.

Later in the day, Adrian sneaked out of his room and Trevor out of his and they boxed like march hares until Lisa, drawn by the shouting and swearing, appeared to drag them apart again. This happened again in the long corridors of the observatory, and again in the higher towers.

The fourth time it happened, it happened in Dracula’s library.

“Both of you! Out!” Lisa bellowed, her temper fraying, “Trevor, go to my office—Adrian you’re not allowed in any of the lower levels until tomorrow!”

As both boys were retreating, Vlad peeked out from behind a bookcase, “Is something wrong?”

“You were here the whole time?” Lisa snapped, “Why didn’t you stop them?!”

“They were only fighting,” Vlad said, watching Trevor close the door behind him as he left.

“What do you mean,” Lisa said, darkly, “‘Only fighting’?”

Vlad set the book he was reading down and closed it, “Is conflict not normal among humans that age?”

“No,” Lisa said, and paused, “Well… maybe Trevor’s age, but Adrian is far too young and Trevor is not healthy enough. And anyway, it’s not to be done in the home.”

“Ah,” Vlad said, “It’s not the same with Vampires. There’s a tradition of newly turned vampires being brought together, so they can learn combat by skirmishing.”

Lisa frowned, “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

Vlad smiled, his long teeth glinting.

“Honestly, they’re fighting like rats in a pit,” Lisa said, sourly, “Every time I turn my back they’re at it again.”

“It might be worth trying to find a new place for the young man soon,” Vlad said, “I know of a monastery in Gaul that has a good reputation for housing orphans. I could take him there.”

“You? In a house of God?” Lisa glanced at him.

Vlad smiled, “In disguise, of course.”

Lisa smiled back, but it faded, “I just wish they wouldn’t fight so much.”

“It’s a Belmont and a creature of the night, darling,” Vlad said, “If they got along, it would be a miracle. I’m not sure even you could manage it.”

Lisa pressed her fingers to her lips, eyes squinted as she thought, “Actually… I have an idea.”

 

*

 

The two tussling boys were summoned from their rooms and brought down to the main hall. Still wounded from Lisa raising her voice at them earlier, they stood as far apart from each other as they could, stubbornly not looking at the other boy.

“Alright,” Lisa said, facing both of them. She was dressed in her outdoor wear, a baggy outfit made from sac-like material. “I need a favour from both of you.”

They said nothing. Finally, Trevor nodded, and Adrian followed suit. Lisa raised an eyebrow. Perhaps this was going to be harder than she’d thought. She powered on regardless.

“I need about five types of herbs collected for my medicines,” Lisa said, pulling a thin, scruffy-looking spiral bound book from her bag, “But I want you to work together. Adrian can use the book, and Trevor will be picking the plants. So for you, Trevor, Adrian isn’t allow to show you the pictures, so you have to work off his descriptions. And Adrian—” Lisa broke, off frowning.

Adrian regarded his mother with a golden, cherubim smile.

“Be nice,” Lisa finished.

Trevor snorted, and Adrian shot him a sharp look. Lisa saw the venom in his glare and pursed her lips.

“I’ll be close,” Lisa said, “If anything serious happens, then you come and find me, alright?”

There was a silence.

“Perhaps you misheard me,” Lisa said, raising her voice a fraction, “I asked if that was alright?”

“It’s alright,” Adrian said, like a reflex.

Trevor took a little longer, “It’s the least I can do.”

“Good,” Lisa said, “Well, I’ll be somewhere between the plateau and the stream, just shout for me if you need me. Make sure you don’t go too far, and if it gets too dark there’s a torch in Trevor’s pack you can use.”

Adrian nodded and turned on his heel, stalking out of the castle and taking the stairs three at a time. Trevor limped after him like a wounded cat. She watched as he finally eased himself onto the earth, Adrian already far ahead, having not waited or even turned to see if he was following.

Lisa sighed and began to descend.

It went against her instincts, to leave them alone when she knew they would fight. But that was necessary, sometimes. It was clear that a battle was needed between them—like tomcats fighting for territory, they would always claw at each other until someone won for good.

She watched Trevor limp after her son. All she could hope was that there was enough left to patch up after it was decided.

 

*

 

“Describe it again,” Adrian asked, crouching at the foot of a tree. He yanked at the grass there, pulling it out and scattering it on the patchy earth.

“Are you going to listen this time?”

“Don’t be smart. It doesn’t suit you.”

“It’s leaves have three dark green prongs. It’s got a furry yellow-green stalk. We’ve passed a whole cluster of them already.”

Adrian sent him a withering look and set off again.

Trevor hobbled after Adrian, who refused to slow down. The earth was soft and spongey underneath them, and his stick sunk into the earth and had to be wiggled out with every step.

Adrian broke through the last line of trees and skidded down the steep bank to the riverside. The landscape here was much rockier, the earth sinking between harsh grey rocks. The water was an opaque, dark brown, swirling over the shallow river bed. He knelt, peering at the stubble of small plants that lined the sticky earth.

There was a sound behind him, a strangled yelp and the sound of something soft hitting rock.

Adrian watched the path behind him. There was no movement.

“Trevor?” Adrian asked.

No reply.

Adrian eased himself to his feet, and padded cautiously back up the soft earth path. His eyes scanned the undergrowth, but he saw nothing except moss and rotting logs. When he passed the line of trees, he saw only the shallow fall of the hill, the scatterings of old trees.

“Trevor?” Adrian asked again, a little louder.

There was a muffled sound.

Adrian whipped around, ears pricked. When the sound came again, he located its source. A small cave opened under the rocks, the earth around it bright enough to suggest it was new. Light couldn’t penetrate its depths.

Cautiously, he approached it, peering inside. “Trevor?” He asked.

There was a thick intake of breath, followed by a sigh.

“Are you hurt?” Adrian asked.

“M—my leg,” Trevor’s voice floated up from the mouth of the cave.

“Don’t move,” Adrian said, straightening up, “I’ll go get—”

“No!” Trevor yelped.

Adrian scowled, “Look, Trevor—”

“Listen, Adrian,” Trevor snapped, “I’m not— _there’s something in here with me_.”

Adrian froze. His blood ran cold.

As if drawn by the noise, he heard the something. A hushing, low and snakelike. The brush of scales on stone.

“What is it?” Adrian asked.

“Not sure.” There was a noise, Trevor shifting his weight. He hissed in pain.

Adrian glanced between the mouth of the cave and the fields behind them. Lisa was at least a mile away, and she wouldn’t be able to do much except call her husband. If Vlad was out on business, it could take hours. He heard the shift of the creature again.

“I’m coming in,” Adrian decided, sounding a lot more confident than he felt.

“Wait,” Trevor protested, but Adrian was already shimmying into the cave.

Even though the mouth of the cave opened up, Adrian still had to bend his head. He yanked his lamp from his pack, flipping a switch to start the motor. A white glow filled the cave.

The creature was revealed in white and grey. It was a shifting mass, a long, snakelike body with a five sets of short, birdlike legs along its length. It head looked like a ram’s, with stubby tusks that looked snapped off at the end.

“You absolute moron,” Trevor snarled, “Now we’re both—”

The creature cut him off with a growl almost like a warm chuckle. Its yellow slit eyes seemed to look at both of them at the same time. Trevor seemed to sag, losing his scowl, eyes wide.

Adrian knelt, “It’s not my fault that—!”

“I know,” Trevor interrupted, “I shouldn’t have snapped. Sorry.”

Adrian blinked at him, bewildered. He stared at Trevor like he had grown another head.

Trevor shuffled his arms out of his pack, “Would you be so kind as to light a fire? It only has to be a small one.”

“Sure,” Adrian said, flatly. He eyed Trevor as he pulled a few stalks of kindling from his pack and snapped them to length before he arranged them in a small pyramid. He lit it.

The fire seemed to have an effect on the creature. It turned its head, focus on the warm flames.

“Come sit with us,” Trevor said, “We’ll share our food with a weary traveller.”

Adrian was confused—until he realised Trevor wasn’t talking to him. “Did you hit your fucking head too hard, Belmont?”

“No, but thanks for asking,” Trevor said, a sharpness in his voice, “I feel perfectly fine.”

The creature approached, long claws clicking on the stone. Its head seemed too large for its body, swinging as it walked. Adrian tensed, waiting for it to strike, but it only rested at the edge of the fire, top-heavy head hanging over the flames.

“Are you hungry?” Trevor asked, “We will share all we have with you.”

The creature grumbled sourly.

“We will?” Adrian asked.

Trevor ignored him, pulling his sack open and retrieving a hunk of dry meat, he split it three ways and passed one to Adrian. He held another piece out to the creature and it raised one viciously clawed paw to take it from him.

The creature did not attack, but was far from acting tame. There was a terrible, restrained violence in the animal, muscles tensed to pounce. But, for whatever reason, it didn’t.

“Have my piece too,” Trevor said, pressing his chunk of meat into the creature’s paw. It accepted reluctantly.

Adrian glanced between the Belmont and the monster, “Mine too.” The creature accepted his with a grunt, snapping up all the meat in its impressive, long jaws. Trevor shot him a sly smile, a look in his eye like they were sharing a private joke.

“Do you have any mead you’d be willing to share, Adrian?” Trevor asked, voice unnaturally soft.

“Anything I have is yours,” Adrian mimicked his tone, pulling his flask from his pack. They didn’t have three cups, so the two they poured they handed straight to the creature.

The creature let out a soft whimper, like it was in pain. And—Adrian only saw it because he was looking at the right time—its back legs drew up into itself, and its tail shrunk an inch.

“I appreciate the help you’ve given me this evening,” Trevor said, “I appreciate your patience, it must have been difficult to slow down for me.” It was thinly veiled passive-aggressiveness, but apparently the creature couldn’t detect sarcasm, and shrunk a little more.

Adrian shot him a sour smile, “And thank you for being so candid with your comments.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Trevor said.

The creature grumbled in the pause in conversation, grinding its tusks together. Trevor opened his pack, searching for more food. At this rate, they would run out before the creature was much smaller.

“I’m impressed by your vivacity,” Adrian said, “Despite your injuries.”

Trevor looked at him blankly.

“Vivacity means liveliness,” Adrian said.

“I’m impressed by your vocabulary,” Trevor said, “It certainly doesn’t sound strange coming out of a five-year-old, it very much suits you.”

“I’m eight,” Adrian snapped.

The creature raised its head, one eye boring into Adrian’s. He returned the gaze flatly. So the dumb animal responded to tone, if not subtext.

“Excuse me,” Adrian said, forcing his voice to be placid again.

“You’re forgiven,” Trevor said, “I surely don’t mind spending an extra hour here redoing all the work you’ve undone.”

Adrian ground his teeth together. Trevor was surprisingly good at being rude and sounding like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

“I like your whip,” Adrian ground out.

“I’ll teach you how to use it, someday,” Trevor said, offhandedly.

“I’d like that.”

“Although, of course,” Trevor said, “You’d have to cut your hair. It’s far too long at the moment and I’d hate to have you rip out all those lovely golden locks if you make the wrong move.”

Adrian rolled his eyes.

The creature had shrunk again while they were talking, and it looked like they finally making some progress. Adrian pulled out the herbs he had, and offered them around, before they ended up in the creature’s mouth. It didn’t seem to matter what they were offering, so long as they played the part. They talked. Trevor broke up a piece of very stale bread. They talked more.

Adrian gradually found it easier to be polite. Although it grated on him to be nice to the Belmont, he tried to imagine he was talking to his father or his mother, and kept his tone formal. Eventually he fell into a rhythm, making up qualities the complement him on, playing nice and assigning him all sorts of wonderful, random traits. They stoked the fire, keeping it going with every bit of wood they had.

Trevor continued to be a master of sly politeness, but after what felt like an hour, Adrian could see him start to wither. He had begun shivering. There was a small patch of ground water near the edges of the cave, which Trevor must have been sitting in for a long while now. The air in the cave grew cold enough to see the white clouds of their breath.

The creature had shrunk to the size of a house-cat, tail curling and uncurling in a restrained fury.

“Water?” Trevor asked, pulling out a water-skin.

“Thank you,” Adrian reached over the flames to take the skin from him. He drunk deeply and moved to hand it to the creature.

“Please, feel free finish it,” Trevor said.

Adrian brought the water-skin to his lips, “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” Trevor said, “What’s mine is yours.”

The creature gave a defeated grumble, halving in size.

“Are you alright?” Adrian asked, swallowing the last bit of water.

“I’m fine,” Trevor said. His face was colourless and shiny, “Just a little cold. Don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?” Adrian asked, raising an eyebrow. The creature whimpered.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Trevor said, “We have to do this first.”

“It’s alright to stop,” Adrian said, “I can take over.”

“Thank you, but we’re almost there,” Trevor said.

The creature groaned, high and long. It was about the size of a shrew, perfect in miniature.

“Wow, you’re so small,” Trevor said, pointedly, “You could fit in the water-skin.”

The creature let out another groan, rolling on the floor.

Adrian snatched the creature up. It writhed between his fingers, growing, needle-claws breaking his skin, but he didn’t hesitate, shoving into the water-skin and screwing the lid shut. It began to expand inside the water-skin, bulging as its claws broke the leather.

“The fire!” Trevor snapped, “In the fire!”

Adrian dropped it into the flames. It went up like kindling, the skin catching immediately. A burst of heat filled the cave, the flames white and blisteringly hot. The rush of flames was like a falling star. The dying screams of the creature were ear-splitting.

And then it went out.

Darkness was sudden and absolute. Adrian fumbled for his lantern, which he had turned off to save power. It flicked on, and he blinked his eyes until he got used to the grey gloom.

“Trevor?” Adrian asked.

Trevor shifted, “Still alive.”

Adrian kicked through the dying embers of the fire.

“Save... the skeleton,” Trevor huffed, “Your mother might want it, it’s…. used in some medicines.”

Adrian peered down at the dusty firepit, and picked out the mangled remains of the water-skin, tucking it into his backpack.

“How is your leg?” Adrian asked, “Do you need any help?”

“It’s fine,” Trevor said, unconvincingly.

“You can tell me,” Adrian said.

“The creature’s dead,” Trevor said, “You don’t have to be nice any more.”

Adrian narrowed his eyes. He shuffled his backpack onto one shoulder, and scooped up Trevor’s backpack to sling over the other shoulder. Then, he stooped and lifted Trevor up as gently as he could.

Trevor swore loudly.

“If you told me where you were hurt this wouldn’t be so bad,” Adrian grumbled.

“How can you even carry me?” Trevor growled.

“I have superhuman strength.”

Trevor squeezed his eyes shut, “I should have let the Dumag eat you.”

Adrian said nothing, dropping the lantern into Trevor’s lap and trying to locate the exit. It was very difficult to move when he was this laden with things. He set the bags down briefly, and found the mouth of the cave.

It was a steep fall from ground level, far easier to fall in than climb out. Adrian set Trevor down and attacked the mouth of the cave, pulling away soft earth to widen the hole. Then, as gently as he could, he lifted Trevor with both hands and tossed him the short distance to the hillside. Trevor let out a sharp cry of pain as he landed, and Adrian winced.

After retrieving the bags and strapping them all safely to his back, Adrian scrambled out of the cave after him.

Night had fallen in their absence. The sky was a deep, velvet blue-black, studded with stars. The moon, like a hole punched through the heavens, glowed like the lantern hanging from his teeth. Adrian stooped and lifted the Belmont into his arms.

“You’re not really tall enough to carry me,” Trevor gasped. He was right. His arms and legs bumped against the grass.

Adrian couldn’t respond with the handle of the lantern in his mouth. He only shot him a withering look and padded towards the castle, which was silhouetted on the horizon, dark as a distant mountain.

He walked, feeling like a pack horse.

“That was a Dumag,” Trevor said, between gasps, “They feed off negativity…. We should go back there tomorrow, they’re often... put there to guard treasures.”

Adrian shifted the handle in his mouth. It tasted of old iron. He couldn’t say it, but he doubted Trevor would be going anywhere tomorrow, with the state of his leg. Blood was dribbling from the boy’s heel onto the foliage they passed.

Trevor seemed to be done with talking. He leaned his head back, eyes fixed on the moon.

Adrian rearranged his grip on Trevor. It was hard to walk carry such weight, he had to constantly lean back. Going up the hillside was hard, with the packs and the weight. He walked sideways, shuffling through the undergrowth to avoid trees or rocks.

The night had silenced the land. Adrian didn’t even hear a mouse stirring, or a snake. Only his own noise, and the raspy breathing of the Belmont. Morning dew had already formed frost on the earth, and grass crunched underfoot.

Trevor’s eyes had drifted shut while he walked. His face was a pale moon. For a moment, a cold feeling flooded Adrian’s system and he resisted the urge to shake him awake, and settled for checking the boy’s pulse instead.

It felt like they were walking for an age, the land stretching out under them. Vlad had talked to Adrian about pocket dimensions before, how they could be crafted to roll on and on for eternity, so someone could walk in one direction for years and only end up where they had begun, over and over in a loop. Adrian tensed.

Suddenly, light burst through the trees ahead.

Adrian stumbled back, sitting heavily on a rock. The light burned into his eyes, and he flinched away.

“Adrian?” Lisa lowered the lantern, “I was so worried!”

“Trevor’s hurt,” Adrian said, dropping his lantern.

She noticed the boy in his arms and stooped in front of him, pressing a hand to Trevor’s cheek, “He’s cold. Is he responding?”

“I don’t know,” Adrian said.

Lisa slapped Trevor’s cheek lightly, “Can you hear me, Trevor?”

Trevor’s eyes opened and stared up at her blearily. He blinked slowly.

“That’s good,” Lisa said, voice warm, “Can you stay awake for me, Trevor? Could you do that for me?”

Trevor blinked at her.

“Let me carry him,” Lisa said, “We have to get him into the castle quickly.”

Adrian let his mother take the Belmont, and it was a mark of how gone Trevor was that he didn’t protest the jostling. She set off quickly towards the castle, not quite running but jogging as smoothly as she could.

With his mother by his side, the distance to the castle seemed a lot shorter. The two of them make the journey in short time, Lisa leaping up the stairs two at a time.

When they were both in the castle’s bright light, Adrian saw Trevor’s leg clearly for the first time. He looked away. Lisa’s coat was spotted with dark blood.

“I’m going to take him to my office,” Lisa said, walking away, “He’ll be fine. You can go to bed, Adrian.”

Adrian stood, rooted to the spot. His backs weighed him down.

Lisa glanced back at her son, “Don’t worry. You did well.”

Adrian swallowed thickly and nodded. He watched his mother disappear, and he was alone in the great hall. After what felt like an age, he worked up the energy to pad up the stairs to his room.

**Author's Note:**

> if you got a notifcation for this fic its not cause it updated its cause i uploaded another fic's chapter to this one
> 
> because im a professional .....


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